


Safe Haven

by annagarny



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Babysitting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-17 09:09:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annagarny/pseuds/annagarny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The California Safe Haven law (the Surrendered Baby Law) states that a person can leave their baby, up to 3 days old, with an employee at any safe surrender designated site in California.</p><p>Beacon Hills' designated safe surrender site happens to be the Sheriffs' Office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Safe Haven

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY! So I've had my own baby and now I have a much better understanding of how newborns function. 
> 
> Prepare for the next chapter to be much more realistic...

It had been one hell of a long weekend - the weekend after prom, the weekend between graduation and summer jobs starting, the weekend that, this year, happened to coincide with a full moon. 

The four holding cells in the Beacon Hills Sheriffs Department had seen so many drunk-and-disorderly idiots that Sheriff Stilinski was seriously considering installing a revolving door on at least two of them... though he was rather thankful that, for once, his son and his little group of buddies had been absent from any and all crime scenes and out-of-control parties that the police had been called to. 

So far.

The fact that it was eight PM on the Sunday evening meant that the Sheriff was well and truly ready to clock off and relax, he had just confirmed over the radio that there were no outstanding calls and that he could head back to the station, so he did just that. Parking the cruiser in the reserved bay, he got out and made his way to the door. He was halfway up the small concrete path that led to the main entrance when he stopped short in the dimming light. There was a girl sitting on the bench outside the station, holding a wrapped bundle. When she spotted the Sheriff, she stood up and lifted her chin, making direct eye contact with him as she approached.

"Sheriff." she greeted him, and he nodded in response before speaking.  
"Evening, Miss. How can I help you?"  
"I- I would like to make use of the California Safe Haven laws. This is my daughter, but I'm not able to care for her, so I'm surrendering her to you." She held out the bundle, which was revealed to be a tiny baby girl, only a couple of days old.  
The Sheriff looked down at the baby, then up at the girl before he spoke.  
"Miss, are you sure?"  
"Yes. If she stayed with me she wouldn't be... she wouldn't be safe. Please, take her."  
"Did you want to come inside with me and fill out some paperwork, first? Speak to a counselor?"  
"I already spoke with a woman at the hospital, she said I could leave her with you and you wouldn't ask any questions."  
She stepped closer to him, extending her arms until the child was touching Sheriff Stilinski's uniform.  
"That's true." He looked down at the sleeping baby and moved his hands until he could take it from her.  
"Does she have a name?"  
"No."  
"Do you want to tell me yours?"  
"No, sir. I'm just going to leave her with you, so that she'll be safe."  
"Alright, miss. But you have 48 hours to change your mind. I'm-"  
"I won't change my mind, sir. Thank-you."

Before he could gather himself to say anything else, she turned and walked away, through the parking lot and across the road, vanishing between the trees of the park across the road.

"Uh, Sheriff? Is that a baby?" One of his deputies asked, approaching carefully a few minutes later, finding Sheriff Stilinski still standing on the footpath outside the station.  
"It would appear so. Can you go ask someone to call Social Services?"  
"Uh, but, Sir, isn't this a missing persons case?"  
"The mother chose to utilize the Safe Haven laws. Go get the baby capsule out of the child restraint display in the meeting room for me, will you?"  
"Yes, sir." The deputy headed into the station, holding the door open for the Sheriff to step past him before vanishing into the offices while the officer at the front desk's eyes widened.

"Wha-"  
"Safe Haven laws. Can you call Social Services?"  
"Uh, I could, but Carole's on vacation for the next six weeks."  
"What about Child Protective Services?"  
"This is Beacon Hills, Sheriff, Carole is kind of both of those roles, using us as enforcement for the CPS part."  
"Great. So what am I supposed to do until she gets back?"  
"Uh-"  
"Does she have a cell number we can call?"  
"I think so-"  
"Then, please, call her."

Throughout this exchange the baby was quiet, snuffling a little but returning to sleep when the Sheriff rocked on his feet, lulling her like he'd done so many years ago with his own child.

"Voicemail, sir."  
"So leave a message and then check if she left any instructions in that ridiculously long e-mail she sent last week."  
"Yes sir. Hi, Carole, we've had an infant surrendered here at the station, we need a contact person at CPS, can you get back to us ASAP, thanks." The deputy clicked around on her screen for a minute or so before she found the e-mail she was looking for and skimmed it.

"Okay, it looks like the next person to contact won't be available until Wednesday, a hundred miles away. In the meantime there are some contact numbers for foster families, but... none of them are equipped for an infant."  
"And I am!?" Sheriff Stilinski could feel his blood pressure rising as the situation shifted under his feet like quicksand, and at his sharp tone the baby stirred, so he dropped his voice to a harsh whisper.  
"What was Carole's contingency plan?"  
"Well, apparently, she usually takes infants into her own home for a couple of weeks, until they've had medical checks and the like, before they enter the foster system or are put up for adoption."  
"Right."  
"So, sir, I think that means that you might have to get yourself equipped for an infant, because you're the next on her list of persons authorised to care for an abandoned or abused child."  
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath in through his nose, and shifted the baby until he could hold her with one arm.  
"Hand me the phone and dial Stiles' number for me, will you?"  
"Yes, sir."  
"This is not going to be pretty."

 

Stiles wasn't at home when his Dad called him, but he wasn't at the subway station, either. No, he wasn't even with the pack, because they were way out in the woods, almost halfway to the next town, camping in the middle of nowhere for the full moon in order to keep themselves out of trouble.  
So Stiles had, somehow, ended up spending the weekend with Lydia. Her parents didn't mind Stiles crashing all weekend (he got the impression that they thought he was Lydia's gay best friend) and had left them alone for the most part while they had discussed plans for the summer and what was going to happen with the rest of the pack when they got back, which should be any minute.

So, when his cell phone started ringing, Stiles snatched it up immediately, thinking that it would be Isaac, telling him that they were back, but no. It was his Dad.  
"Hey, Dad." he greeted, trying not to sound too disappointed.  
"Hello, son. Listen, I need you to do me a big favour and run to the drugstore before it closes to grab a few things."  
"What things, Dad? Can't this wait til morning?"  
"Not really. We need diapers, formula, bottles and anything else you think a new baby will need to spend a couple of nights with us."  
Whatever Stiles had been expecting, that was certainly not it.  
"What?"  
"A baby's been surrendered here at the station, the social worker who usually deals with this stuff is on her vacation, so we're it. Where are you, anyway?"  
"I'm at Lydia's." Stiles told him, brain-to-mouth filter completely disengaged as his mind tried to process the fact that apparently there was going to be a baby in his house.  
"Good, that's good, she's a smart girl. Take her with you to the store, she'll know what to get. Use the emergency credit card, and keep the receipts."  
"O-kay, Dad. I guess I'll see you at home?"  
"Yup. Try and get there as quick as you can, I think she needs a fresh diaper as soon as possible."  
"Right."

Stiles ended the call and turned to face Lydia, who had one eyebrow raised.  
"What's going on? You've gone white as a sheet - and you're usually pretty pale in the first place."  
"A baby."  
"What?"  
"There- a baby's been surrendered at the station and we have to take care of it. So I have to get formula and stuff from the drugstore and then go home."  
"A baby."  
"Apparently."

Lydia took a moment to digest this information, before turning to her laptop and typing something into the search bar too fast for Stiles' eyes to follow her fingers on the keys.

"Okay, so, I already knew about the Safe Haven laws, so that's how the baby ended up with your Dad, but I don't actually know much about what you need to actually take care of one. There must be a list of recommendations or something - aha!" She found something and clicked on it, opening a PDF file and sending it to her printer before getting off her bed and finding some shoes.  
"Come on, Stiles, you're gonna be a big brother for a couple of days, show some enthusiasm!"  
She smacked him on the side of the head to snap him out of his semi-daze, plucked the pages from the top of her printer and, when Stiles still didn't move, caught him by one wrist and dragged him down the stairs.  
"We're just going to the store, back later!" she called through the house in the general direction of where her parents might be.  
"Keep your cell phone on you!" her mom called back, and before Stiles could pause for breath, Lydia had extracted his car keys from his pocket and thrust them into his hand.  
"Come on, Stiles, you know I don't drive stick. Let's go get baby supplies!"

Twenty minutes and about ten disapproving looks later, Stiles was ready to just grab the first thing that he saw on the shelf that matched the description Lydia was pointing at on her list, just to get out of there faster.

"You know, people are staring at us, Lyd."  
"I know. I don't care. I don't know why you would care, either. We know why we're getting these things, and neither of us really looks pregnant. For all they know we're babysitting or something."  
"Yeah, right. Do we really need all this stuff?"  
"Well, some of it is for the mom, like the nursing pads and nipple cream and stuff, but the rest of it seems pretty essential, especially if this baby's going to be at your place for a couple of days."  
"Yeah, but six pacifiers?"  
"Trust me, you'll be grateful. Besides, you can hang onto all this for when you adopt your own babies."  
"Adopt? What?"  
"Get the three pack of bottles, no, not those ones! The ones on the next shelf. Okay, next thing, formula. Right."

It took them almost an hour, but eventually Lydia was happy with everything they'd purchased, which included organic formula ("The rest have sugar in them! Babies don't need sugar, Stiles!") and three different sizes of onesie, because apparently 'newborn' wasn't a standard size.

They had unloaded the Jeep, and Stiles had just placed the three large paper sacks onto the table when he heard the familiar sound of the cruiser crunching to a halt on the gravel of the driveway. Lydia grinned at him and promptly took off towards the sound, leaving Stiles with the baby paraphernalia, alone in the kitchen.

He'd just cracked open the packaging on the bottles, having read the instructions on the side of the formula can, preparing to sterilize them and make something up for the baby to eat, when his Dad came into the kitchen holding a baby capsule loosely in one hand, followed by Lydia holding the baby, her hair swept back from her face as she cooed at the little girl in her arms.  
"So, that's her?" Stiles asked, and his Dad just rolled his eyes, setting the capsule down before poking his head into the bags, extracting a few things and opening the package of diapers, taking one out and finding the baby wipes as well. He turned to Lydia and held out a hand, and she gave the baby over to him.  
"Oh, hang on, Dad. Here." Stiles ducked down and picked up the plain navy diaper bag that Lydia had spent fifteen minutes picking out, tearing the Velcro-attached changing mat from the back side of it and holding it out towards his father.  
The Sheriff raised an eyebrow and Stiles nodded towards Lydia, who blushed a little.  
"You said she'd been surrendered, so I figured she'd need everything. Might as well put together a care package for her."  
"You're a smart girl, Lydia."  
"Thank-you, Sheriff."  
"Stiles, I can't take that, I've got my hands full. Bring it into the living room, please."  
But Lydia snatched it from him and looked pointedly at the bottles and can of formula.  
"Uh, yeah. I'll take care of that." Stiles muttered as they left him alone in the kitchen, again.  
"The microwave sterilizer is in the bottom of the bag with her plushie in it." Lydia called over her shoulder, and left him to his own devices.  
“I know, I know. Give me five minutes!” Stiles called after her, and set about pulling it out of the bag, reading the instructions and realising that it was going to be a good twenty minutes before the bottle would be ready; and really glad that his Dad’s drink of choice was tea and not coffee, meaning they already had a kettle to boil the water for the bottles.

“So, does she have a name?” Stiles asked, leaning on the archway between the kitchen and lounge, watching Lydia coo at the baby while his Dad tried not to look too uncomfortable at the sight of a teenage girl with an infant on his sofa.  
“No, she doesn’t, actually.”  
“Really? Didn’t you say her mother had surrendered her?”  
 “I asked, but she said that the baby didn’t have a name and left before I could ask her anything else.”   
“Oh, man. We need to find her a name. We can’t just call her ‘baby’ all the time.” Stiles put in, and Lydia grinned up at him.   
“Considering I’m not planning on having any kids, this might be the only opportunity I get to have a say in naming one.”  
“And no, Dad, before you even ask, you get no input. You let Mom name me... well you know what my legal name is. So you don’t get to have a say.”   
“That was all your mother, as you well know, and it’s a family name.”  
 “I don’t care, I still haven’t forgiven you for it, either.”  
Lydia looked up at them curiously, and opened her mouth to ask the obvious question, but Stiles forestalled her and simultaneously changed the subject..  
“Just because you aren’t planning on having kids doesn’t mean you don’t have names picked out already. Girls just do that kind of thing.”  
“What? No we don’t-”  
 “You named every single one of your plush animals with a name that rhymed with their latin genus or species. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about what you’d name a daughter.”  
“Stiles, this baby isn’t mine, I can’t name her.” Lydia protested.  
“And Dad sucks at baby names.”  
“So that leaves you, son of mine, picking out a name for her.” Sheriff Stilinski told his son, clapping him on the shoulder.  
“I’m going to take a shower, I haven’t changed since noon yesterday. You two think you can handle her for a while?”  “We’ll be fine.” Lydia waved him off with her free hand, and the moment his footsteps disappeared up the stairs she raised an eyebrow at Stiles, expectant.  
“What?” he asked, struggling to keep his arms crossed over his chest and not start flailing about like usual.  
“Go and get your computer; we need to research baby names.”


	2. Intoxicating

“No, Sitles.” Lydia told him.   
“What? Why not!? It’s a great name!”  
 “We’re not naming her after one of Spiderman’s girlfriends!”  
“But Gwen is a great name!”  
“I don’t care.”  
“Ugh, fine. What about-”   
“Not Mary-Jane, either.”  
 “...I wasn’t going to suggest that!”  
“Well, what were you going to suggest?”  
“I don’t know...”  
Lydia looked up from the baby girl she was feeding, thoughtful, and posed a different question.  
“Stiles, what was your mom’s name?”  
That stopped him short, mouth open, and he gaped at her for a few seconds before he answered, quietly.  
“Elizabeth... but she went by Liz.”  
“Okay, so, what about Beth?”  
Stiles stared at her, expression blank for a few moments before one side of his mouth quirked up in a small smile.  
“Okay... okay. Beth it is.”  
“Great. Now, where did you put those onesies?”

>>  
>>>  
>>>>

At almost eleven PM, Lydia sighed and announced that she had a weeknight curfew, no matter how much she disliked the fact, and she had to be home soon.

“Uh, Sheriff Stilinski, could you give me a ride? Stiles bought me here.”  
“Sure thing. Stiles, you’ll be okay with her?”  
“Yeah, Beth and I will be fine.” Stiles told him, reclining on the couch with the baby on his chest, asleep. She’d objected any time he’d attempted to put her back in the bassinet, eventually it had been easier to lay himself down and let her just sleep on top of him - he figured once he was ready to go to sleep himself she'd be far enough out of it to not even notice being relocated.  
“Beth?” the Sheriff asked, one eyebrow raised.  
“Uh, yeah. As in Elizabeth.” Stiles told him, and the Sheriffs' expression softened.  
“Oh, okay. Sure. And yes, Lydia, I can take you home. Come on.”  
“I’ll be back in the morning, okay?” Lydia told Stiles, before leaning over the back of the sofa to press her lips to the top of the sleeping baby’s head.  
“Uh, sure.” Stiles muttered, smiling up at both of them and trying not to move too much for fear of disrupting Beth.

A moment later the front door clicked shut and Stiles relaxed into the cushion, one hand flat on Beth’s back as he kept his breathing even and she snuggled into him, one tiny fist wrapped around his other thumb.

“You’re pretty lucky, really, that you got to meet someone like Lydia. She might say she doesn’t want kids, but she’ll make a great mom someday. She’s so smart, any babies that she produces will probably help her take over the world.”

Beth didn't so much respond as she snuffled in her sleep and tightened her grip on Stiles' thumb and seemed to try and burrow further into his chest.

"I mean, seriously, she's amazing and all but damn she is scary smart. She will take over the planet, if anyone I know is capable of that, it's Lydia."

>  
>>  
>>>  
>>>>>

The full moon had passed, for once, completely without incident. Isaac had been able to help out, again, and Boyd at least had been able to find himself enough of an anchor to keep himself under control. Being out in the forest meant that he had been able to shift into his full Alpha form and keep Erica corralled, Scott hadn't been a problem and, surprisingly, neither had Jackson, considering it was only his third moon out. The Alpha pack had long since taken off - word of another new Alpha coming to power somewhere in Texas had distracted them and they'd even taken Peter with them, eager to have someone smart end cunning enough to return from the dead accompanying them to test the mettle of the new-guy-in-charge. 

The Beacon Hills pack had actually enjoyed themselves, sort of, chasing wild animals rather than humans, and between Isaac, Scott and Boyd they'd even managed to take down a stag, which had promptly been torn to shreds by the rest of the pack.

It was almost a bonding experience.

But now they were back in town, and Derek had sent those members of his pack with families back to their homes; he was thankful that this full moon had fallen on a convenient weekend, they'd been able to be away for two whole nights and almost three days on the premise of a camping trip and not aroused suspicion. Isaac had headed back to the two-bedroom apartment that Derek had rented not long after the subway station had been flooded during a particularly nasty spring storm, and left Derek to his own devices, which meant that he was going to check on the human members of the pack before turning in himself. He decided to send them a text first, though, seeing as it was eleven at night, and make sure that he wouldn't be shot on sight turning up at either Lydia or Stiles' place at such a late hour.

To: Stiles, Lydia. +back from camping trip - how was the weekend without us? Didn’t destroy the place I see.+

To: Sourwolf +dude it was kind of boring but you woke beth up so now you have to come over here and help calm her down+

What? Beth? Derek stared at his phone for a second, shook his head and replied.

To: Stiles +Who the hell is Beth and why do I have to come to your house?+

To: Sourwolf +just get over here it’ll be easier to explain in person+

Derek looked at the message and shook his head... and found himself turning the car in the direction of the Stilinski’s street without much input from his brain.

To: Derek +weekend was boring but you should go visit Stiles. Talk later.+

Huh. That message from Lydia just piqued his curiosity even further, and he put the phone down, concentrating on driving the last three and a half miles to Stiles’ place.

The scent hit him at the end of the block, the second he got out of his car and took his usual inhale to check for danger, he caught Stiles’ unmistakeable cinnamon and mint scent, but there was something else overlaid with it, something unfamiliar but intoxicating.

He loped up the street and found his speed increasing as he got closer to the Stilinski place, and it was all he could do to stop himself from barging through the door without even pausing.

As it was, he reined himself in, somewhat, and knocked on the door.

The scent got stronger and stronger as he heard Stiles’ footsteps coming towards the door, and alongside Stiles’ semi-staccato heartbeat he could hear a lower, more rapid thumping.

Then the door opened and he almost fell over, having to brace himself against the doorway as the heady smell hit him full in the face. 

He stood there, breathing heavily through his mouth for a few long moments before he managed to lift his head and see what the hell the source was.

“Why the hell do you have a baby?” he demanded, panting, trying to resist stepping forward and pressing his face into the tiny bundle that Stiles was holding against his chest, stamping down the urge that the Alpha had to wrap the cub and its’ caretaker in his arms and protect them both from all the bad things in the world.

“She got dropped off at the station, Safe Haven Laws. Why do you look - dude, are you high?” Stiles ducked his head to catch a glimpse of Derek’s face - eyes glazed over as he gave in to one of the many temptations right in front of him and took a deep inhale through his nose, eyelids fluttering and mouth falling open as the delicious smell hit the back of his throat and sent a jolt of... something... straight down his spine.

“Not - not high. Uh - oh damn.” Derek took another breath in, hoping that perhaps prolonged exposure would dilute the scent, but no, not really. “She smells really good, Stiles.”

“What? Dude, not cool!” Stiles took an involuntary step back away from Derek, still propping himself up in the front doorway, his arms tightening a little around the baby.

“No!" Derek didn't shout, exactly, but the baby still stirred at the alarm in his voice, so he make a conscious effort to regulate his tone. "No, not like that, I mean... Stiles, even you should be able to smell it. Put your nose on her head and take a deep breath in.”

Wary, not taking his eyes off Derek for a second, Stiles lowered his face to the top of the baby’s head and breathed in. 

Derek was right, dammit, she smelled beautiful. 

“Okay, okay. Just so we’re clear, though, you don’t want to eat Beth.”  
“Beth? No, I'm not going to eat her. Why Beth?”  
“Uh- Lydia may have had some influence...”  
“Your mom’s name was Elizabeth.” Derek said, remembering all of a sudden.  
“Wha- how do you know that!?” Stiles demanded, taking another step back without seeming to notice.  
“When...when the fire happened, your Dad bought me and Laura into the station, and your mom was there, she gave us cookies and sat with us while we waited for the people from Social Services to arrive. They took so long that she was even talking about us maybe having to stay at her house - here - if they didn’t arrive soon.”  
“Oh." Stiles relaxed at the explanation, and nodded. "Alright. So, do you want to come inside and meet her properly or are you just going to stand there in the doorway all night? Because I need to get some sleep and Dad says she’s going to want another bottle in like two or three hours.”  
“Your Dad won't mind that I'm here? I know he's not my biggest fan."  
“If you’re up in my room when he gets back from taking Lydia home he won’t even know that you’re here. Speaking of - how did you get here? I didn’t hear that black thing of yours pull up.”  
“I parked down the block - I do have some self preservation instincts.”  
“Yeah, but from the look on your face and the way your eyes have gone all dopey it’s going to be hell trying to keep you away from Beth, so you might as well crash here. You’re sleeping on the floor, though. And helping out if she needs her diaper changed.”  
“Uh huh.” Derek pushed himself off the doorjamb and stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind himself before following Stiles into the lounge, watching as the boy got himself situated on the couch once again, the baby on his chest, safe and secure and miraculously still asleep.

“I thought you said I woke her up?” he asked, standing in the middle of the lounge room and staring down at the two of them as Stiles stroked his hand idly up and down Beth’s back.  
“Yeah, the text alert on my phone woke her up, but then she burped and went pretty much straight back to sleep.”  
“Huh.” Without realising what he was doing, Derek had shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it across the back of the sofa near Stiles’ knees and then moved so that he was standing at the other end, where there was a gap between Stiles’ head and the arm of the sofa that might have been able to fit a single cushion. There was no reasonable way for Derek to occupy that space, but he didn’t intend on letting that stop him, not when there was the baby-smell mixing with the Stiles-smell and he could feel himself relaxing the more he breathed them in.

“Sit up for a second.”  
“What?”   
“Just-” Derek reached down and cupped Stiles’ head with his palm, lifting him up far enough that Derek could sit down, and he slid a pillow into his lap before he lowered Stiles again.  
“Right. Dude, seriously. You look like you’re high, or drunk or something.”  
“She smells good. You smell good because you’ve got her smell all over you.”  
“It’s still weird. And my Dad is probably going to ask awkward questions if he gets home and finds us snuggling like this on his couch.”  
“We’re not snuggling.” Derek protested, but it was a fine line - he was digging his fingertips into his own thigh, claws barely contained, to stop himself from rubbing his thumb over Stiles’ forehead and scrubbing his fingers through the short hair of his scalp, and his other arm was stretched along the back of the couch, gripping almost as tight back there in an effort not to pull the baby and its’ caretaker up into his lap and rub his face all over both of them.  
“Sure we aren’t. Just keep an ear out for the cruiser, will you?”  
“Mm hm.”


	3. sidetracked

Derek let himself get distracted, and Stiles was asleep. It was only Beth’s stirring on his chest a good fifteen minutes later that alerted the teenager to the headlights casting shadows on the lounge room walls and he lifted his head to look up at Derek who... from this angle... also looked asleep.

Reaching up a hand, Stiles poked him in the cheek, and Derek came back to his senses just in time to hear the door of the cruiser slam shut. 

“Crap.” He stood up as Stiles attempted to sit up straighter with the baby still on his chest, and before Stiles could do or say anything else, he’d snagged his jacket and vanished up the stairs with barely a sound.

By the time the Sheriff walked through the door of the lounge Stiles was sitting up properly and had Beth in one arm, still asleep. 

“Uh - I was just about to head upstairs with her. Is she going to sleep in the bassinet?”

“I guess so.” Sheriff Stilinski apparently had not thought this through.  
“Where? In your room? The guest room?”  
“Well, unless Lydia made you get a baby monitor, she’ll need to be in one of our bedrooms.”

“I haven’t got school tomorrow, but you’ve got work. I can take her; I’ll be up for a few more hours anyway.”

“Alright - there’s enough formula?”  
“Dad- I’ll be fine. There’s always the internet if I have any serious questions.”

“Right. Right. Okay, I’m off. Sleep well.”

“Night, Dad.”

Stiles watched his Dad walk up the stairs slowly, before he got to his feet and headed into the kitchen. Beth, thankfully, didn’t stir when he put her in the bassinet, so he was able to find the formula can and pour a measure of the powder into one of the bottles, and flicked the kettle on to reboil.

His dad had been upstairs for about three minutes - not quite long enough for the water to have boiled, when Derek reappeared in the kitchen, moving silently but in Stiles’ peripheral vision field so as not to startle him... too much.

“I heard what you said to your Dad- I can stay up with her if you want to get some sleep.” Derek muttered, leaning over the bassinet and resting a hand on one side of it, almost proprietary.

“Dude, you hardly sleep as it is, I’m not going to ask you to stay up all night with her. Besides, we can take it in turns. She should sleep for a while longer, yet - the website said that babies go like four or five hours between feeds when they’re newborn.”

“Uh huh.” He wasn’t paying attention, Stiles could tell, so he turned around to watch what happened..

Stiles leaned against the counter as Derek lifted the baby out of her carrier and held her to his chest, one hand supporting her head, the other under her diaper, and he was struck for the first time just how tiny Beth was. Realistically, he knew that Derek wasn’t much larger than Stiles was, only a couple of inches taller, but he was so much broader in the chest that he seemed to take up a lot more space. And... well, with a newborn in his hands he looked gigantic.

“Take her upstairs, I’ll bring up the bassinet, and once the kettle’s boiled, all we’ll have to do is pour the water into the bottle to make up the formula. I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Okay.” Derek muttered, face bent over the baby, lips pressed to the top of her head, and he stepped out of the kitchen, holding Beth like she was made of glass.

>>

>>>

>>>>

The night passed relatively uneventfully - Derek’s hearing and sense of smell meant that he picked up on a lot of cues that Beth gave before she started to cry properly. By the time she was making noises loud enough to wake Stiles up Derek was already in the kitchen, shaking the bottle of formula and testing the temperature on his arm - he was halfway back up the stairs when Stiles appeared at the top of them, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Go back to bed, I’ve got this.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Derek paused at the top of the stairs while Stiles stood there, dopey and still half-asleep in his boxers and an ancient Batman t-shirt. Derek’s mouth quirked a little, almost enough to be called a smile, and he put a hand on one of Stiles’ shoulders, turning him around and gently guiding him back to his bedroom, picking Beth up from her bassinet as the younger man collapsed back onto his bed.

Derek settled himself at the foot of the bed, the baby cradled in one arm, fed her, burped her and then took her back downstairs to change her diaper, returned her to the bassinet and sprawled out on the floor next to her, rocking the carrier until the baby’s heartbeat and breathing slowed into a deep, sleeping rhythm.

Of course, he was aware of the other two heartbeats in the house, both at rest (though Stiles’ heart rate was always that tiny bit faster than pretty much anyone else’s) and after about half an hour he’d let himself drift off as well, in the gap between Stiles’ bed and the wall, invisible from the doorway if the Sheriff decided to poke his head in and check on them before he left. Which he did, and Derek held himself perfectly still, half under Stiles’ bed, a blanket covering most of him while Sheriff Stilinski checked on his son and the baby - both of whom slept through the intrusion without so much as a hitch in breathing. 

As it was, it was Derek’s phone chiming with a text alert that woke the three of them again, almost an hour after the Sheriff had left for his shift at the station.

Stiles sat straight up in bed, pawing blindly for his own phone, until he was distracted by a shrill wail from the bassinet next to him, at which point he changed trajectory entirely and swung his legs down to the floor, scooping Beth up and holding her to himself, glaring over his shoulder at Derek, who at least had the decency to look a little sheepish before he pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket.

“It’s from Erica - she wants to know where I am.”

“So tell her. Dad’s going to be at the station all day; who knows, maybe being around a baby for a few hours will mellow her out a little.”  
“If I tell her where I am we’ll end up with the whole pack here.”  
“So tell them to bring snacks- last time all of you were here you ate every packet of potato chips that I had hidden away. Isaac even found the bag I’d hidden in the liquor cabinet. I still hold firm that the use of supernatural abilities to steal someone else’s junk food is just mean.”

“What if I get them to bring over breakfast?” Derek asked, standing up and stretching - sleeping on the floor wasn’t exactly comfortable, he needed to move around a little to stop his back muscles from spasming so much.  
“That- that would be acceptable.” Stiles told him.

“Alright. Pancakes ok?”

“Remind them to bring syrup - I’m going to make up some formula for Beth.”  
“She’ll need a diaper change, first.” Derek told him without looking up from his phone, composing a text message.  
“What? Oh - right.” Stiles couldn’t smell anything, but that didn’t mean much with a werewolf in the room.

“Yeah, and it’s your turn, I did the three AM change.” Derek smirked at him and, while Stiles gaped at him, stepped out of the bedroom, taking the stairs three at a time and landing at the bottom on silent feet.

“I’ll make up a bottle while you do that, okay, Stiles?”

“You’re a terrible co-parent!” Stiles called after him, not bothering to raise his voice overmuch, and also unwilling to disturb the baby any more than he already had.


	4. pancakes

Sheriff Stilinski paused at the edge of the crime scene, taking a deep, fortifying breath and considering, not for the first time in the last eighteen months, asking for a transfer to somewhere... well. When he’d initially been posted to Beacon Hills it had been a notoriously ‘quiet’ area - one murder in twenty-seven years and that had been a cut-and-dry domestic dispute where the wife had been arrested covered in the mistress’ blood, in the process of trying to dispose of the murder weapon. However, in the last year and a half, the bodies had begun to pile up; and as Sheriff, it was his responsibility to apprehend those responsible.

Unfortunately in most of these cases they had been ruled animal attacks, in spite of the whole ‘there are no wolves in California’ assurances from Fish & Game, there had been enough fatal animal attacks in Beacon Hills to temporarily lose the Sheriff his badge. 

And now, less than twelve hours after the first person... ever... took advantage of the Safe Haven laws to abandon an infant into his very own arms, there was a bona fide murder that, by all accounts, was a genuine human-on-human killing that he actually had a chance of solving. So Sheriff Stilinski stepped under the yellow tape and started asking questions.

“Okay, what happened?”  
“Well, sir, it appears that the victim was shot several times, close range, by a relatively high-calibre weapon. She’s been dead about three to five hours... an early morning jogger found her right here, just off the path... so whoever killed her wasn’t exactly keen on hiding the fact, or was disturbed before they could move the body.”  
“She was shot here?”  
“Looks like it - there’s blood on the ground under her and spatter on the trees nearby.”  
“Shell casings?”  
“None that we can find, sir.”  
“Okay, well-” Sheriff Stilinski stopped dead when he was finally close enough to the body to see the victim’s face, and his shoulders slumped as he raised a hand to his own face, covering his eyes and turning away from the scene, trying to keep himself together.

The girl.

The girl who had just the night before handed him Beth and told him that she wouldn’t be safe... was now dead in the forest, shot five times in the chest and staring, sightless, up at the clear blue sky.

“Sheriff?”  
“This case just got a hell of a lot more complicated.”  
“Sorry, sir?”  
 “The baby - there was a baby surrendered to me last night at the station and this girl... she’s the one who handed her over.”  
“Oh.”  
“I need to call my son.”

>>  
>>>  
>>>>  
>>>>>

Erica showed up about twenty five minutes after Derek had replied to her text, with Isaac in tow and two paper sacks full of groceries - ingredients for pancakes and enough condiments to hopefully keep the entire pack from emptying the Stilinski’s pantry again.

“Derek you owe me thirty bucks for- what the hell is that smell?” Erica stopped dead in the front hallway and took a deep breath in through her nose and Isaac imitated the action as he closed the front door behind him. As one, both of them exhaled and closed their eyes, then opened them again as Derek emerged from the lounge, Beth upright on his shoulder as he patted her back to burp her.

“That smell would be the baby. Put the groceries away and I might let you hold her.” He told them, holding out a hand to stop the betas from swarming him and the infant, ignoring the agitated whines from both of them.

“Now.” he punctuated as Erica tried to dodge his arm and get closer to the baby, catching her by the shoulder and directing her to the kitchen where Stiles was elbow-deep in a sink-full of soapy water, scrubbing at the three empty formula bottles that had accumulated overnight.

“Hang on - why is there a baby?” Isaac asked, blinking a couple of times as he put the grocery bags down on the kitchen table and tugging a large bottle of maple syrup out of one while Erica extracted two bottles of Pancake Shaker and set them down next to the gas cooktop.

“She got surrendered to Dad last night at the station and the social worker who usually takes the babies in is on her vacation, so she’s staying with us until a foster family can take her.” Stiles explained, raising an eyebrow at Erica as she added four more pancake mixes to the collection by the stove, then shaking his head and accepting that six batches still might not feed them all.   
Hell, Stiles himself could put away one bottle of pancakes by himself if he hadn’t eaten much over a weekend.   
“Pan’s in the cupboard under the microwave, plates are over there.” He indicated the correct drawer with his elbow, rinsing off the bottles and dropping them into the steam sterilizer, wiping his hands on the dishtowel slung over one shoulder and watching as Erica flicked the stove on to make a start on breakfast.

“Okay. Why are you here, then?” Isaac asked Derek, who just shrugged.  
“I woke her up when I let Stiles know I was back last night, so he made me come over and help put her back to sleep.”  
“The Sheriff let you stay overnight?” Erica asked, one eyebrow raised, turning away from the stove as the frying pan heated up.   
“Yes.” Derek answered, just as Stiles piped up.  
“No, he hid under my bed and refused to leave because Beth smells awesome.”

Erica smirked and Isaac pretended to be extremely interested in the instructions on the side of the pancake bottle as Derek glared at Stiles, unable to refute him because a) it was true and b) he still had the baby on his shoulder.

“So can I hold her yet or what? She really smells great...” Erica had drifted away from the stove as Isaac took over the cooking, shaking two pancake mixes at once, one plain and one buttermilk, checking the stove temperature and dipping a hand back into the grocery bags to pull out some butter.

“When she actually burps you can hold-” Derek began, and Beth punctuated the sentence with a rather loud burp, a little cough and then another, slightly more liquid burp all over the shoulder of Derek’s Henley.

He stood there, staring open-mouthed at the mess on his shoulder as the other three promptly burst into giggles, Stiles crouching down next to the sink bent double, clutching his stomach as he tried not to laugh too loudly even as Erica and Isaac snickered openly at their Alpha.

“Pa- paper towel, Daddy Wolf?” Stiles offered, holding out the roll, still laughing, as Derek continued to stare at the baby who was now resting her head on the clean part of his shirt, eyes closed, contented.

“Here, Derek, I’ll take her while you clean that up.” Erica offered, reaching out for the baby and biting her lip so as not to smile quite as widely as she wanted to.

Derek handed Beth over without actually looking at Erica, then snatched the paper towels from Stiles and began to scrub furiously at the vomit on his shoulder, glaring at the mark and screwing up his nose at the smell.

“Dude, you should have put one of these under her-” Stiles offered, pointing at the dishtowel slung over his own shoulder. Derek stopped glaring at his shoulder for a moment in order to direct it at Stiles instead, before wadding up the paper towel and tossing it into the trashcan.

“You’re washing my shirt.” he told Stiles, still glaring  
“Hey, I didn’t vomit on it!”  
“Your house, your dad made you responsible for the baby, you’re washing my shirt. Besides, there’s enough laundry in your bedroom for you to do at least two loads today.”  
“Ugh, fine, whatever. But you’re helping.”

Derek just grunted at that and proceeded to strip out of his vomited-upon Henley and pushed past Erica towards the laundry room, ignoring the continued giggles from the three teenagers in the kitchen.

Stiles had just managed to straighten himself up when his phone rang.


	5. the big reveal

Stuffing his Henley into the washing machine, Derek picked up the full basket of dirty clothes nearby and sorted them by smell, piling the clothes that Stiles seemed to wear the most on top of it and adding the (thankfully unscented) detergent. He was about to start the cycle on the machine when he heard a heartbeat in the other room suddenly spike. Rather than turning the washer on, he tuned in to the conversation and caught that Stiles was on the phone with his father.

Something was wrong.

“Dad- what does that mean, though?”  
“It means that the baby-”  
“Beth”  
“It means that Beth is going to have to stay in our custody for a while longer, son. Probably until the investigation into her mom’s death is concluded.”  
“Oh.”  
“So we might need a more permanent setup than the baby carrier on your bedroom floor for her to sleep in.”  
“Okay. So, what do you want me to do, then?”  
“You’ve still got plenty of room on the emergency credit card, I hope? We need a crib at least - there’s one in the attic from when you were a baby that your mom painted...”  
“I’ll get onto it, Dad. Uh, I’ll call some of my friends. Erica could maybe look after Beth while I go buy a seat for the car?”  
“Erica Reyes? Since when are you friends with- you know what, never mind. I’m just glad that you’re not going to try and leave her with Scott.”  
“Really.” Stiles deadpanned, and Derek heard the Sheriff huff a laugh at that.  
“Okay, okay, but you have to admit that Scott’s problem-solving skills do have a fairly abysmal track record.”  
“That’s an understatement so severe I have no idea where to start-”  
“Stiles, I have to get back to the investigation. Can you get some of your friends to help you turn the guest room into something that will pass for a nursery?”  
“Sure - Isaac’s not doing anything today-”  
“Hey!” Isaac objected.  
“So he can help lug some furniture down from the attic.” Stiles finished, ignoring the interruption.  
“Okay, well, I have no idea when I’ll be home, you think you can cope?”  
“Again, Dad, the internet can answer my questions.”  
“Okay, Stiles. Stay safe.”  
“We will.”

He hung the phone up and Derek shook his head slightly, before pushing the right buttons (the most used buttons on the machine) and starting the washer. He was still in his tank top and jeans, and there were a couple of spare shirts in the trunk of the Camaro, so he’d be fine as far as clothes went. He returned to the kitchen to find Erica sitting at the table with the baby in her arms while Isaac laid the table; Stiles had taken over cooking duties and truth be told, Derek was kind of relieved. Isaac was a good cook, but nobody made pancakes like Stiles.

“So I guess you heard that, hey?” Stiles asked, spotting Derek as he came back into the kitchen.  
“Yeah, I did. So she’ll be here until the investigation’s over?”  
“Or until the case goes cold, but it’ll be a few weeks at least. You want to help get baby stuff?”  
“After breakfast.”

>  
>>  
>>>  
>>>>

“Okay, we’re not taking the Camaro.” Stiles objected as he and Derek left the house an hour later, leaving the three betas (Boyd had showed up when someone had informed him of imminent pancakes) and Scott (also enticed by the promise of pancakes) with the baby. Derek had walked right past the Jeep in the driveway and made for the end of the block, but stopped short when Stiles objected.  
“Why the hell not?”  
“For a start, it doesn’t have a back sea-”  
“Yes, it does. And it’s a better backseat than the one in the death trap on wheels that is your Jeep.”  
“Okay, how are we going to fit anything bigger than a pack of diapers into the Camaro, then, eh?”  
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the store will have this revolutionary new service called delivery, Stiles.”  
“Sarcasm. Dry wit and sarcasm. Those are my moves, Hale, stop with the stealing of my signature moves.”  
“Your signature move is falling over your own feet while walking in a straight line.”  
“Hey!”  
“You know I’m right. Get in the car.”  
“Fine. But this argument is not over.”  
“Yeah, it is. In.”

It wasn’t until they pulled up outside the mall, at the Wal-Mart end, that Stiles realised he’d forgotten to actually write down what they’d need for the baby, and had no idea exactly which pieces of furniture would be appropriate for a nursery. They’d left Boyd and Isaac searching through the attic for the white-and-green painted crib that had housed Stiles as an infant, and Scott had been sent back to his mom’s house to ask if she had anything they could use.

“Uh, what exactly does a baby need, anyway? Lydia made me get a diaper bag last night-”  
“Crib mattress, Boyd’s going to text me the dimensions, and sheets for the crib. A blanket or two, some more of those swaddling wraps and she’s going to need more clothes, too.”

Stiles stopped dead in front of the entrance, staring at Derek as he rattled off the list without seeming to pause for thought.

“Dude, how do you know all that?”  
“All what?” Derek asked, eyebrow raised.  
“How do you know what a baby needs? Are you - oh my god you knocked a girl up in New York and you’ve got a kid of your own. You’re a deadbeat dad!”  
“I don’t have any kids, Stiles.” he huffed, and turned to walk towards the entrance, Stiles trailing after him.  
“Then how do you know all this stuff?”  
Derek paused, considered for a moment, then kept on walking through the automatic doors. He didn’t actually answer Stiles’ question until they were in the store and heading towards the baby department.  
“When we were living in New York, I was a nanny for a while - so I dealt with a lot of babies.”

Stiles was so busy staring at Derek, open-mouthed, that he didn’t see the pyramid of laundry detergent and walked straight into it, knocking a good third of the display to the floor and sending powder flying everywhere.


	6. a glimpse at the past

Stiles got kicked out of the store, covered head-to-toe in white, lily-scented washing powder. Somehow, Derek had vanished from his proximity the moment the boxes had begun to tumble, so he’d been escorted through the double doors alone.

Derek emerged twenty five minutes later, having ordered the crib mattress with the dimensions Boyd had sent to him. He was carrying three large bags filled with diapers, clothes and various other baby paraphernalia.

“You’re not getting in my car like that.” Derek announced as he walked past where Stiles had been sitting, moping, just outside the entrance. There was still laundry powder in the creases of his hoodie and jeans, and in spite of scrubbing his hands through his hair almost non-stop since he’d been escorted out of the store, there were still streaks of it through his now completely tousled locks.

“What am I supposed to do? Strip down to my boxers and toss my clothes into the trunk?” Stiles demanded, getting to his feet and following Derek back towards the Camaro.  
Derek tilted his head to one side, raising an eyebrow and Stiles realised his mistake.  
“No, no! I am not getting naked in the Wal-Mart parking lot.”  
“Then you’re walking home.” Derek told him, shrugging and continuing towards where he’d parked his car.  
“Dammit, Derek!” Stiles kept following, leaving a trail of white powder in his wake.  
“Shoes, jeans, hoodie at minimum into the trunk. And you’re going to vacuum it-”  
“What?” Stiles interrupted, indignant.  
“You’re going to vacuum my trunk at least twice to get rid of the smell.” Derek finished, opening the drivers door and raising both eyebrows pointedly, waiting for Stiles to step around to the trunk and strip down. He pulled his seat forward and stuffed the bags of baby things into the back seat while Stiles stared at him, open-mouthed.  
“Seriously?”  
“Seriously. And besides, the trunk is a hell of a lot easier to clean than the whole car. Think of it as making less work for yourself.” Derek informed him, popping the drivers’ seat back into place and reaching down for the trunk release before settling on the edge of the drivers’ seat, pulling his phone out of his pocket.  
“This is ridiculous.” Stiles muttered, under no illusions that Derek couldn’t hear him, but kicked out of his Converse and shook himself once more, freeing more of the powder onto the blacktop before unzipping his hoodie.  
“Shake it properly before you put it in there.” Derek called out, then turned his attention back to his cell.  
“Yeah, yeah. Ugh, this is humiliating.”   
“How do you think I feel? I have to be seen driving your scrawny half-naked butt around.”  
“Ha, ha, very funny Mr Funnywolf.”  
“Just hurry up, Stiles.”  
“Good thing it’s freaking summer.” Stiles grumbled, stripping down and shaking his hoodie out, tossing it into the trunk and adding his jeans to the collection as quickly as he could, almost slamming the trunk closed in his hurry to get into the passenger seat.

“So, you were a nanny.” He prompted as they pulled out of the lot and headed back towards the Stilinski residence.  
“Sort of. The pack we, well, the pack who helped us out while we lived in Brooklyn had a lot of cubs, and I helped out.”  
“I just - I mean, I’ve seen you with Beth but... really? Babies and toddlers? Although if they had claws and fangs-”  
“Not until puberty, thank god. A three-year-old bites hard enough without fangs.”  
Stiles stared at Derek, mouth hanging open. That was, to Stiles’ knowledge, the first piece of information about being a born werewolf that Derek had volunteered without severe needling and pointed questions being asked.

“Okay. Noted, baby werewolves can’t slice me up until the hormones kick in.”  
“They’re still stronger than regular kids, and have heightened senses. A lot of werewolves home school, at least until the cubs can control themselves.”  
“But you went to Beacon Hills High-”  
“So did Laura, and the rest of my family. She- she kept me in line.” Derek’s voice dropped as he spoke about his sister, and Stiles felt his stomach clench - Derek rarely mentioned Laura, especially in front of Stiles and Scott, for good reason. Stiles had it on good authority (Erica) that Derek still hadn’t really forgiven them for digging her up and then accusing Derek of killing her.

Completely understandable, but Stiles really had no idea how to fix that, though he hoped that the whole ‘saving each others’ lives on a regular basis’ thing had gone some way to establishing some level of trust. How, exactly, did one apologise for disturbing a body and getting someone arrested (twice?). There wasn’t exactly a Hallmark card for the occasion, though perhaps a cake could be decorated with that swirly writing...

“So you’ve dealt with a lot of babies and toddlers. Did you want me to tell Dad that so that you don’t have to hide out so much? I mean, if we let him know that you were a nanny he might trust you to help me out with Beth. He’s still not happy about us hanging out so much, but if he thinks there’s a responsible adult helping out he might not care that he arrested you... that time.”

Derek looked sideways at Stiles, one eyebrow cocked. 

“You’d do that?”  
“Well, yeah. You seem to be pretty attached to her already - unless you’re expecting me to pay you back for all the stuff you just bought for her.”  
“She smells... she smells like the other babies did, Stiles. I left them behind when I came out here after Laura, and I miss them. I haven’t exactly had much time to get back in touch with everyone.”  
“Oh, okay.” 

Somehow, the fact that Stiles was in a t-shirt and his boxers while they were having this conversation didn’t seem all that important. They sat in silence for the rest of the drive back to the Stilinski house, right up until Derek cut the engine on the street outside.

 

“I might need to put on pants before I have that conversation with him.” Stiles blurted out.  
“Probably a good idea.” Derek agreed, smirking at him before stepping out of the car.


	7. bribery will get you a foot in the door

“Sheriff, that crime scene’s almost finished processing, can we re-open the jogging track, yet?”

Sheriff Stilinski looked over at his deputy, then surveyed the group of people still swarming over the site of the murder. The girls’ body had been removed to the hospital morgue, there wouldn’t be an autopsy for a few days, at least until a coroner from Sacramento could get up to Beacon Hills, or the body could be transported down there.

“Give it another half hour, but I want this scene taped off and guarded for the next 24 hours, two men minimum.”

“Can we really spare-”

“This girl surrendered her child to me just last night, I want to do everything I can to bring her killer to justice, if for no other reason than I’d like to be able to one day tell that little girl that justice was served.”

“Okay, sure thing, sir. I’ll make some phone calls.”

“Good.”

****

Sheriff Stilinski ran a hand across his head before plucking his cell phone from his pocket and hitting Stiles’ speed dial. It had been six hours since he’d arrived to find that the surrendered baby girl, Beth, was now likely an orphan. His son had hopefully managed to get a few things together, if his friends were helping then they might even already be a bit organized.

****

“Hey, Dad. How’s the investigation coming?”  
“It’s been less than half a day, Stiles, and I’m not discussing the case with you.”

“But-”

“How’s Beth?”

“She’s fine, she’s sitting with Erica and Lydia on the couch. They want to put her in pink, frilly things, Dad.”

“So?” The sheriff wasn’t entirely sure what the big deal was; Beth was a baby girl, baby girls generally wore pink, frilly things.

“So, she’s like a week old! This gendered crap is just - ugh. You know what, never mind. We couldn’t find a carseat that will fit in the Jeep without breaking like a dozen laws, so I might need to get your car out of the garage.”

“The Toyota? Will that thing even start, Stiles? I don’t think-”

“Well, Derek’s out taking a look-”

“Derek? As in Hale? Why is Derek Hale taking a look at my car, Stiles? Come to mention it, why is he even at our house? I thought you said you didn’t know him that well.”

Stiles paused, swallowed hard and decided to bite the bullet.

“Well, he knows a lot about cars, Dad. Besides, Isaac’s living with him and he gave him a ride over. When he found out about Beth he offered to help out - he knows a lot about kids, Dad. He was a nanny when he lived in New York.”

“He - what?” Sheriff Stilinski stuttered to a halt in the middle of the jogging track that he had been walking along towards his cruiser. He knew that the Lahey kid was staying with someone local, he just hadn’t realised that it was Hale. What connection did they even have, aside from having no living family left? Hale was only in his early twenties, what was he doing taking responsibility for a teenager? Who the hell had even allowed that in the first place? The Sheriff rubbed his forehead with his free hand as more and more questions cropped up.

“Yeah, he and Laura both nannied for a couple of families while they lived in Brooklyn. He’s been pretty helpful, really. Aside from Boyd he’s the only one of us who’s ever dealt with babies, and Boyd was like eleven when his youngest sister was born so he doesn’t remember much-”

“Okay, okay. Well, I suppose you’ll be driving the Toyota for a while, then.” Anything to stop the word-vomit.

“I - yeah. If Derek can get it started.”

“Sure. Look, I’ll be home for dinner; there’s a heap of paperwork that I’ll have to get done for this case, but my shift technically ends at four PM, and Shelley is threatening to put me on forced leave if I don’t stop working so much overtime.”

“Okay.”

“I want Hale to be there for dinner, if he’s going to be helping out with Beth I’d like to actually speak to him in some capacity other than reading him his Miranda rights.”

“Okay, sure. Uh, what about Isaac?”  
“He can stay, too. Make a lasagne. With real beef. I’ll eat a salad with it but if I’m going to have Derek Hale at my dinner table I want red meat.”

“Right, okay, I can do that.”   
“Butter in the bechamel sauce, I can tell the difference.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be home around six.”  
“See you then, Daddy-o.”

****

Ending the call, Stiles turned around to find Derek standing behind him, still in his tank top and jeans, only now with black grease on his hands and swiped on the rag he’d apparently found somewhere.

  
“I’m staying for dinner?” he asked as Stiles tried to get his heart rate back to normal.

“I really need to make you wear a bell or something. But yeah, you and Isaac both, if you’d like.”

“Uh-” Isaac poked his head in from the living room at the sound of his own name. “I’m doing what now? Ms McCall’s expecting me tonight, she’s making gyros.”

“Okay, so it’ll just be the three of us, then.” Stiles told Derek, who rolled his eyes and jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the garage where the SUV was parked.

“I’m pretty sure that we’ll just need a new battery, when was the last time anyone even drove that car?”

“I’m not sure, last winter, maybe? I think Dad drove it for like a week when he was suspended and didn’t have the cruiser. He hasn’t needed it since because of the lack of staff, he’s been driving a cruiser full-time”

“Why does he even keep it, anyway?”

“Uh, well... it was Mom’s car. She bought it new and then like six months later we found out about the cancer. Plus he used to have to switch out to his own car when there were more deputies around. You know, before Jackson-”

“Oh, okay. Sure. Well, I’ll just go get a new battery for it.”

“Here, take the credit card-” Stiles dug in his back pocket for his wallet but Derek held out a hand to forestall him.

“I’ve got it - Tony owes me. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Tony?” Stiles asked, taking the rag that Derek was holding out without actually noticing what was being placed in his hand.

“Yeah, the guy who owns the garage. I’ve been helping him out while he looks for a new mechanic; the least I can do after Matt had Jackson kill Tucker.”

Stiles stared after Derek as he left the room, and it wasn’t until he heard the door of the Camaro slam shut that he could think straight enough to put together all the information that Derek had just given him.

So, points to Derek, he did have a job outside of his Alpha-ing. And he knew more than a little about cars, apparently, if he was working as a mechanic.

“So we’re putting the carseat in the SUV?” Isaac asked, and Stiles nodded.

“Cool. And I’ve got to make a lasagna sometime today, as well.”

“Good thing we’re here to look after the baby, then.” Lydia put in from the kitchen doorway, Beth cradled in one arm. “Where’s the formula, Stiles? I think she’s getting hungry.”

“The bottles are in the sterilizer next to the microwave and the formula tin is beside them. She’s only having like two ounces at a time right now, or at least that’s how much she had this morning.”

“Right.”

“And now, for my next trick, I produce a lasagna big enough to feed Derek and tasty enough to placate my father.” Stiles muttered under his breath, opening the freezer to check its’ contents and make sure he actually had everything on hand to create one.


	8. dinner is uncomfortable, but worth it

Dinner was… uncomfortable. 

Well, dinner itself was delicious, if Stiles did say so himself. But the atmosphere around the table was awkward in more ways than one.

He’d had to call Derek and ask him to pick up some extra lasagna sheets on his way back from the garage and it had been terrifyingly domestic for a couple of hours there; Derek talking to the girls about how to burp the baby, taking Beth and putting her down to sleep in her bassinet in the den while Stiles made dinner and the rest of the Pack helped him put together her nursery. Derek had shooed them out of the house at around five, when Erica and Lydia had started bugging him about the baby and wanted to wake her up from her nap. He had then actually come into the kitchen and helped Stiles to make dinner until Beth started to cry.

When the Sheriff got home just before six PM he found Stiles lining a cookie sheet with fries to go in the oven and Derek Hale holding a baby on his couch, the TV tuned to the local news and his SUV parked in the driveway instead of in the garage where he’d left it. The Jeep was nowhere to be seen, presumably in the garage instead. There was a salad on the kitchen counter next to a cooling lasagna, so he nodded at Derek, who acknowledged him with a straight face. He headed straight for his study, putting his service weapon away in the gun-safe and went upstairs to change, coming back down in jeans and a t-shirt to find Beth in her bassinet and Derek setting the table. 

“So, Hale.” The Sheriff stepped past his son dishing up dinner and pulled a beer from the fridge. He waved it at Derek, who (wisely) shook his head and indicated the can of Coke at one of the place settings. 

“I’m good, sir.” The Sheriff cracked his beer and took a long pull before sitting down at the head of the table. Derek followed suit, leaving his Coke untouched as the man in charge stared him down. 

Derek, at least, had the good sense to look away after a few seconds, even though his Alpha instincts were screaming at him to rise to the issued challenge. He reminded himself with a subtle claw to his own thigh that the man he was having dinner with was technically in charge here, and taking him on would be stupid for any number of reasons, lack of access to the baby being chief among them. 

Derek had kind of become stupidly attached to her in the short time they had been acquainted and the prospect of not being allowed to care for her was enough to calm his wolf down. Somewhat.

“So. Stiles tells me you were a nanny.”

“Yes, sir. In Brooklyn - we, uh, we lived with some distant relatives and they had kids, babies and preschoolers. After caring for them a few days a week I decided it was easier than dealing with adults in something like customer service and advertised my services as a nanny.”

“Laura, too?”

“Uh, no, she went back to school and got a degree in Business, started working for a Fortune 500 company while I was changing diapers.”

“You never went back to school?” 

Stiles’ head snapped up at that - it was a trap and he really hoped that Derek wasn’t stupid enough to fall into it.

“Well I got my GED once things settled down, and I’m only a few credits short of finishing a degree in History. I was actually planning on contacting UC Berkeley this summer and seeing if I could get the Columbia credits transferred.”

There was a crash from Stiles’ direction and both men turned to look at him. Stiles, eyes wide, lifted both hands in defeat.

“What? I - I never knew that you’d been to college, dude.”

“Did you just drop the fries on the floor?” his dad asked, and Stiles winced.

“Only like half of them, I’ll - I won’t have any.” Stiles told them both before turning back to the plates and finishing up. He came to the table a moment later, setting his dad’s plate down first, then Derek’s, and taking his own seat as silence reigned once again. 

Derek’s right hand twitched ever-so-slightly as the Sheriff picked up his fork and took his first bite of lasagna, but Stiles (in a terrifying display of awareness) pressed his foot to Derek’s under the table and followed suit, though he did subtly wait until Derek had actually finished his first mouthful before he tried his own slice.

Derek was just grateful that his wolf side seemed to be acknowledging that the Sheriff was the alpha in this house; as a visitor to the territory he could hardly be expected to eat first. As it was, Stiles kept nudging him, as if to keep him in line or something, and wasn’t being very subtle about it. 

Well, the looks that the Sheriff kept giving them both suggested that Stiles’ foot-nudgings had not gone unnoticed. Derek resisted the urge to kick him back, instead he concentrated on listening to Beth’s heartbeat in the room behind him; he was planning on putting her in the crib later, but for now she was happily snoozing in the bassinet while the rest of the household had dinner.

Well, most of dinner. Derek was just about done when he caught the uptick in her heart rate, the rapid intake of breath and - yep. There it was, the high-pitched wailing that had him out of his seat and bolting into the lounge before either Stiles or his father had heard anything.

He didn’t even notice until a few moments later, returning to the table with the baby in his arms, that he’d moved to fast that his utensils had fallen on the floor. Apparently the Sheriff viewed this in a positive light, because he was smirking a little when Derek resumed his seat. Though that could have been because Stiles was scrambling beneath the table to retrieve Derek’s abandoned knife and fork and his head popped up right next to Derek’s knee when he emerged.

“Does she need a bottle?”

“I think so, I’ll go change her diaper, first.”

“Okay. Did you boys set the nursery up, today?”

“Uh, yeah, Dad-”

“Great, I’ll come upstairs and take a look while you change her, Derek.”

Derek froze like a deer in headlights, his eyes flickered to Stiles who nodded, and he relaxed.

“Sure thing, uh, come on.”

The Sheriff followed Derek up the stairs and hovered in the doorway while he changed Beth’s diaper, but shifted his weight so that he was blocking it when Derek turned to face him.

“Stiles says you’ve had experience with kids.”

“Uh, yes, sir.”

“And you don’t have anywhere to live right now?”

“Well, sir, since the county reposessed the old house-”

“The other guest room is empty. You’re welcome to it. You help out with the baby, maybe get yourself a part-time job, I’ll see about you staying here even after she’s gone.”

“Uh, okay. Thank-you, sir.”

“And I know it was you that did the laundry today - Stiles always uses too much liquid. You keep up that kind of thing you might even be able to stay here rent-free.”

Derek just nodded, Beth still cradled in one arm. She looked from him to the Sheriff, twisting her head as much as she could, making little sighing noises as she breathed.

“Well, come on, son, get her downstairs, Stiles should have her food ready. You got spare clothes in that car of yours?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You can stay tonight so my kid can actually get a good nights’ sleep for once. Maybe having a second adult in the house I can convince him to go to bed at a decent hour and not keep our guest awake.

Derek didn’t really have the heart to tell the Sheriff that he was more of a night owl than his son; instead he stepped forward, using the baby as a shield, and the Sheriff stepped back, letting him pass into the hallway.

“I’ll feed her, you go get some clothes. I’ll break the news to Stiles.” he held out his hands for the baby and Derek handed her over, following the Sheriff down the stairs and heading out to his car as Stiles came out of the kitchen holding a bottle.

“Dad!” Stiles began, indignant, but his father cut him off.

“He’s just getting some clothes out of his car, Stiles. He can stay.”

“Oh. Okay.”


End file.
